


If Only You Remembered Me

by ScribblesInTheMargins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 18OI AU Week 2019: Day 3, Angst, Day 3: Supernatural, Forbidden Love, M/M, Victor is an angel, Yuri is Lucifer, Yuri is a fallen Angel, victor is michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-05 06:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblesInTheMargins/pseuds/ScribblesInTheMargins
Summary: It all started when Victor hit his head.  It was then the visions started, the visions that something was wrong with Yuri, something dark and evil but so irresistible.  If only he could remember.





	If Only You Remembered Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KuraiOfAnagura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiOfAnagura/gifts).



It all started with a missed landing.

 

It was far from the first time Victor had ever fallen.  Every skater fell. You learned to fall safely, you learned to get up, and you learned to not hit your head on the ice.  As Victor sat in the middle of the rink, waiting for the room to stop spinning even as Yakov hurried over, he realized that he failed on that last one.

 

He was fine, being helped over to the side of the rink so one of the arena medics could look at him -- not that Yakov didn't know how to run someone through concussion protocol and not that Yakov didn't do it himself as well -- the man wasn't going to trust Victor to some cut-rate rink medic.

 

Victor closed his eyes, gasping as in that instant he saw Yuri -- but not Yuri.  It made no sense. Yuri wasn't even at the rink today.

 

Yakov insisted he go home and rest after the fall -- that he was allowed to drive himself was half of a miracle with how concerned Yakov was for Victor's health.

 

He didn't know why the fall was bothering him any more than why he kept thinking about Yuri.  It made no sense. As he laid down for the night, his poodle curled up at his feet, he let his eyes close and suddenly his vision flashed.  He gasped, hands thrusting up in the air to block -- to block Yuri who was about to stab him? With some sort of knife? It made no sense… Nightmares never made sense, he hadn't thought he had actually fallen asleep though and he had never had nightmares about Yuri before.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Victor was back at the rink.  The only reminder of the fall yesterday was a bruise on his forehead -- one mostly covered by his hair.  Everything else was back to normal as Victor laced up his skates.

 

Yuri and Mila were over on the far side of the rink, talking and not skating -- and of course, Yakov noticed.  As the two were yelled at, they each skated off in different directions. Yuri moved into a beautiful triple axel -- it was something that always got Yakov off his back.  Yuri's triple axel was beautiful. 

 

"That's better, Yura.  Do that again."

 

"Yes, Yakov."  Yuri rolled his eyes as he skated past Victor as he built speed up again so that he could do another triple Axel.

 

As he saw the young man skate by, Victor dropped his water bottle in shock.  The man's eyes wide and his heart racing. For just a moment, he swore that Yuri's eyes were not their normal blue-green -- no, they had morphed to pure black as if those normally vibrant jewels had become obsidian pits.

 

"Vitya!"  Yakov's sharp voice brought his back to reality.  "What is wrong with you -- I want the doctor to look at you.  The real doctor. Not the medic. Make someone drive you."

 

"I can drive my--"

 

"No, get someone to drive you.  Now." 

 

There was no arguing with that.  When Yakov made up his mind, there was nothing to be done.  All he could do was find an assistant coach to drive him to the clinic.

 

* * *

 

With doctor's orders to relax for two days, Victor texted Yakov on his way home.  He picked up a little something to eat, carrying the take out bag into his apartment.  He could use some relaxation. He'd been working so hard, who could really begrudge him a few days.  He had a book he had been intending on reading. 

 

What he didn't expect was for Yuri Plisetsky to be sitting on his couch, feet up on his coffee table -- and smoking.

 

"What the hell?"

 

Before Victor could do anything else, Yuri took a long drag on the cigarette before blowing it out and then looking at Victor, this time, his eyes were pure pits of black.  "Well, that's appropriate."

 

"What are you."  Victor wasn't a religious person, that didn't stop himself from crossing himself and desperately trying to remember from church as a child.  The Slavic words for the only prayer he knew slipped from his lips as he started to whisper the first line of The Lord's Prayer. "Отче наш, Иже еси на небесех!"

 

Yuri just started laughing, "Yes yes, call out to dad, that's going to do something."  He rolled his eyes as Victor's words faded off. 

 

"What are you?"

 

"The same as you."

 

"I am not a monster!"

 

"Oh, no … do you want me to call Vitya?  Or should I call you by your real name?" Yuri stood up, walking over to him, the cigarette now in his hand as he leaned in to whisper, "Misha."  The diminutive that was distinctively not for Victor was clear.

 

"What …"

 

"Oh, they almost named you correctly, Victor, for Victory -- you always were so good at winning, weren't you.  I wasn't. I was always the one who lost -- or did I?" He let his hand run along Victor's chin as he whispered, "My ever so handsome Mishka."  

 

"What are you talking about Yuri?"  There was no softening of the younger man's name -- if he was a man -- no, he wasn't a man.

 

"You can see what I am, it means you should know what you are -- daddy didn't want us to know.  Didn't want me to know, but …" Yuri held up his hand as he took a drag on the cigarette. He blew the smoke into his hand and then breathed again, this time, the smoke became a bright fire.  The flames didn't burn the man at all, instead, he held up his hand as if it were a torch.

 

"Fire?"  This had to be a dream, Victor had no idea how this could be real.

 

"Light, I bring you light, my Mishka.  My reason for my exile -- and how cruel that you would be my jailkeeper."

 

"Jailkeeper?"  Victor frowned as he stepped back, realizing suddenly what Yuri was saying.  Light … bringer of light. Calling him Michael? Saying they were the same thing -- calling out to their father, no …

 

"You think you are an angel?"

 

"No, Mishka, my love.  I think you are an angel, a beautiful amazing angel who took my heart too many years ago to count."  Yuri stood on tiptoes, pressing his lips to Victor's.

 

"What …"  No, he knew what Yuri was.  "Lyosha…"

 

Another kiss was placed on the man's lips, Yuri's kissing incessant, impatient as if time was much too limited for two immortal beings.  "I love you, Mishka, my handsome knight -- always so pure and perfect and …" He kissed him again, just holding onto him.

 

It was so confusing, but it felt so right.  This felt as if they had done this a million times before.  Yes, Yuri was all things fire and anger -- but it was a passion, and that passion had always drawn Victor.  Now, he couldn't turn away as he lifted Yuri, everything was forgotten as he carried the younger man -- no … the fallen angel into his bedroom.

 

Somewhere, deep in his soul, he knew this was not the first time this had happened.  This was not the first time that beautiful man had found his way to his bed -- he didn't remember others, but he knew it wasn't the only time.   

 

He knew this wasn't the first time he had kissed that flesh -- well, maybe  _ this _ flesh.  Not this being though.  This being in his bed was how life was meant to be.  Sex had never felt so good, so complete, so destined as it did that night.  To see Yuri spread out under him, eyes black as night but skin burning bright with an internal light would forever mean everything to him.

 

His human body could only take so much, and he fell asleep, held in Yuri's arms.  Lucifer and Michael, maybe - maybe they were. Maybe they were fated, maybe this was what soulmates meant.  Whatever this was, he wanted every day forever to be with this man.

 

* * *

 

Victor woke up early the next morning.  He was confused. His body was covered in love marks, hickies and bites everywhere -- but he was alone.  He couldn't remember what happened last night. He had no memories of anything after the fall. 

 

He got out of bed, looking around the apartment.  No one was here. The only thing strange was the half-eaten Chinese food in the fridge.  He knew something was wrong, but he had no idea what it was. He sat down on the couch, brow furrowing, a single candle lit on the coffee table proving that whoever had been with him last night had not been gone for long.  

 

Fire … fire and light … why did that mean something?  He didn't know. Texting Yakov that he wasn't doing well, Victor blew out the candle, noticing the cigarette next to the candle, and went back to bed.  He was exhausted. Maybe this would make more sense when he woke up again.

**Author's Note:**

> The 'Russian' is actually church Slavonic for the first line of The Lord's Prayer, so the most likely thing for him to say in this situation. 'Our Father, who art in heaven' and thus the line about 'daddy'.


End file.
